


A Distant Promise

by SadakoTetsuwan



Series: McHanzo Week 2016 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Afterglow, Childhood Memories, Clumsy Proposal, Coming Out, Day 5, M/M, McHanzo Week 2016, Memory, Reminiscing, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadakoTetsuwan/pseuds/SadakoTetsuwan
Summary: The strangest thoughts drift through Jesse McCree's head when he's lying in bed with his greatest love and greatest rival--a distant memory of a promise which is finally coming due.





	

McCree loved this almost more than anything. Lying in the semi-dark with Hanzo resting against him, not having to stoke their rivalry with the passion of a July sun, neither one teasing and taunting the other in all the ways they knew the other secretly enjoyed…just being. He gently stroked Hanzo’s unbound hair, taking care not to catch any of the long strands in the joints of his metal fingers.

“I think I love you,” McCree murmured, feeling Hanzo’s smile against his chest.

“Sessha no baka,” Hanzo purred in reply, his tattooed arm securely wrapped around McCree’s waist.

“Wanna go again?” McCree asked, chuckling as he earned a pinch on the hip from Hanzo.

“Don’t push your luck, cowboy,” Hanzo muttered, though the grin on his lips suggested that luck might yet be in his favor. Warm silence reigned for several long moments; McCree’s restless urge to break the silence was usually quelled when his prince laid in his arms, but an old memory was prodding him more and more lately.

“Hanzo?” he murmured softly, an odd tone of trepidation coloring his voice. “...I’ve been thinking ‘bout somethin’.”

“Mm.”

The silence was uncomfortable now.

“Did you forget?” Hanzo asked, noting how McCree’s heart seemed to be skipping beats nervously.

“No,” he whispered, his brow furrowing slightly. That was just it. He hadn’t forgotten.

 

 

“Papa?”

“Hm?” Bill was motionless on the back of his horse, his hard gaze hidden beneath the brim of his hat; in the moonlight, it cast his whole face in heavy shadow. But Jesse knew he was watching the herd—he’d learned right quick how to feel out where Mama and Papa were looking at any given moment.

“Do I gotta get married someday?” Jesse asked, fidgeting with his horse’s reins. Bill’s head moved only slightly—Jesse knew his eyes were on him now.

“Well, it’d make your Mama and me awful happy,” he began, “Knowin’ you were keepin’ the McCree name alive. Mama’d love to be an Abuela someday, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Jesse sighed, frowning down at his hands for a moment. “How’d you know y’wanted to marry Mama?” His father’s horse pawed at the hard ground for a moment. Another slight shift in the saddle.

“Well now, if that ain’t a question for when yer older, I don’t rightly know what is.” He certainly didn’t need to describe being broken like a wild stallion by a fiery señorita to an 11-year-old boy. He cleared his throat and scanned the horizon again, as if a more age-appropriate answer might be waiting in the distant hills. “I’ll say this much—when your mother looks at me, she makes me feel ten feet tall, an’ when I look at her, I know she’s special. I know I’m the luckiest man alive, knowin’ that she wanted to marry me jes’ as much.” He glanced over at his fidgety son, a low chuckle leaving him. “Don’ worry ‘bout it too much jes’ yet, Jesse. You got plenty o’ time to kiss plenty o’ girls ‘fore you find the right one.”

“Don’t wanna kiss no girls,” Jesse muttered.

“You mean to tell me in that whole big ol’ school in Amarillo, there ain’t one girl you wanna kiss?” Bill teased. Jesse shook his head vigorously, earning another chuckle. He continued scanning the horizon, a little smile on his lips. Kids.

“...Papa?”

“Hm.”

“What if there’s a boy I wanna kiss?”

No motion—not even the slightest shift for several long moments. Jesse was afraid he’d said something wrong. Bill cleared his throat again.

“Jesse? You got a boy you wanna kiss?” he asked, calm but cautious, as if he'd just heard a rattlesnake. Jesse squirmed in his saddle, glad that his blush was well-hidden beneath the brim of his hat.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “Even more ‘n I wanted to kiss Penelope Williams.” He’d chased that girl all over the homestead when they were little to steal a kiss from her, then been chased in turn until she managed to knock him down and kiss him back in retaliation. Bill has been privately imagining wedding bells ringing down the road that day—what changed? “Is that bad?” Jesse asked, peeking up at his papa from beneath his hat.

Bill sighed softly, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “C’mere, Jesse,” he said after a moment, reaching over and lifting the skinny boy out of the saddle with hardly any effort, shifting back in his own seat to make room. He playfully snatched the hat from Jesse’s head, tossing it over the horn of the boy’s saddle before ruffling his hair, earning a little giggle from the squirming child. His fidgeting quickly subsided and he leaned back against Bill’s sturdy frame, a wide smile on his face as his papa held him close.

“I love you, Jesse. More’n anything,” Bill murmured into the boy’s messy brown hair.

“Love you, too, Papa,” Jesse replied, loosely wrapping his arms around his father’s strong forearm.

“I’m gon’ tell it to you plain-like, alright? ‘Round here, boys kissin’ boys ain’t how things was done,” Bill murmured, giving Jesse a little squeeze. “...But the world’s a-changin’. Some ways for the better, even. So you know hwat? If you find a boy you like kissin’ more than any girls, you go ‘head and you marry that boy. You marry him and make him a proper McCree, alright?” he said, tipping his head to look down at the boy’s face.

Jesse’s smile was absolutely radiant in the moonlight. He tightened his hold on his papa’s arm and snuggled back against his chest, warmth filling him at his father’s decree. “I will, Papa,” he grinned, peering up into the shadows of his father’s face.

“An’ you make sure you have a whole mess of kids, too, alright?” Bill smiled, leaning down and planting a whiskery kiss on Jesse’s cheek. “Gotta make yer Mama happy.”

“Yessir,” Jesse giggled. “Think I want maybe three kids.”

“Well, y’know kissin’s the first step to kids, right?” Bill smirked, chuckling as Jesse began squirming again in response. “’Course, not sure how it’d work with you an’ your cowpoke. I reckon you’ll figure that out in due time, though.” He sighed softly, peering up at the stars for a moment as his son settled back down.

“But listen, Jesse...don’t go tellin’ your Mama that you want to kiss boys, alright? Might upset her some.”

“How come?” Jesse asked, tipping his head farther back to look up at Bill.

“Catholics and church-folk only like for boys to kiss girls,” Bill explained.

“But we ain’t Catholics or church-folk.”

“No, but your Mama is, and we don’t wanna upset her none. Just keep it under your hat ‘round her, alright?”

“Alright, Papa,” Jesse sighed, blowing a bit of hair from his face, only for Bill to muss it up again. This was what he liked best about being on the night watch with Papa. Out on the range, under the big silver moon, they were free. They could be themselves, whatever that meant for them. Papa didn’t have to pretend to pray at supper, he didn’t have to pretend he only liked kissing girls…they were free.

“Your horse is wanderin’,” Bill remarked. Jesse gasped and jumped down from the saddle, chasing down his horse and softly calling her back, handling the mare with natural instinct. Bill sighed, gently pulling his hat down, a nervous knot in his stomach. Life out here was already hard enough—the last thing he wanted was for things to be harder for his baby boy…

 

 

“Jesse,” Hanzo murmured. “...Jesse.” Hanzo reached up to lightly slap his cheek, a playful smile on his lips. “Are you going to talk, or were you just bragging about having a thought?”

McCree’s lashes fluttered, and his attention was quickly refocused.

“...Would we be McCree-Shimada, or Shimada-McCree?” he asked softly.

“What?”

“Y’know. If we were married,” McCree added, his cheeks warming.

“Wh-what are you asking?” Hanzo sputtered, red creeping into his cheeks as well, his heart skipping a beat at his indirect question. McCree’s tongue felt like lead, his heart in his throat.

“...I love you, darlin’, more n' anything,” he whispered, cupping Hanzo’s cheek. “...Just...think about it, alright? If we were married...”


End file.
